


Can't Wake Up (WAKE ME UP INSIDE)

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: Post-revolution, Markus manages to get Cyberlife to turn over their remaining RK900 models to Jericho for a better life. Cyberlife is only holding onto a few of them, and gladly turns them over. Except for one, who just won't wake up. For whatever reason (and Simon is determined to find out why), this 900 (also named Connor), won't go deviant. With the original Connor out sick, the DPD allows Hank to partner up with the new Connor to see what happens. The new Connor is...very different from the original.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Universe in which everyone lives, including Simon and everyone from Jericho. Kara, Alice, and Luther don't live in Canada, but just on the outskirts of Detroit with Ralph and some Jerrys too. Markus and Simon are together, Hank and Connor are together. Things are nice.
> 
> Imagine a world in which my gentle sons, Connor and Nathan, are doing pretty okay and leading fulfilling lives. Can't we have that AND the world in which they're both constantly having emotional breakdowns? Can't we have depressed-semi-functional Connor AND perfectly-well-adjusted-with-a-boyfriend Connor? Well, with the addition of multiple RK models, now we can!!!

RK900s were everywhere. Cyberlife, anticipating an end to the android revolution, had produced upwards of 200,000 models. And now, following the success of the revolution, those androids were scattered haphazardly throughout Detroit. Some took normal jobs as waiters, uber drivers, or mechanics. Some went for jobs at the Eden Club or through shady online websites. Not that Connor judged those androids, by the way. Not all the RK900s were fully adjusted to having bodies yet, and for some of them, it was a nice way to take control by making humans pay to see it. Hank had even been known to take a longer shower than usual after muttering something to the effect of “they look just like him.” Anyway, the problem wasn’t with the RK900s that tried to integrate with society. The problem was with a very few of them who didn’t.

 

Markus had engaged in negotiations with Cyberlife for months, discussing options for empowering androids, preventing them from being abused or mistreated, and enabling them to start making their own repairs, in exchange for concessions not to take the new android ambulance team they were putting together into certain stockholder neighborhoods. Markus had pushed for ages to have Kamski’s androids “woken,” but Cyberlife had refused. The point became moot when they woke up themselves and escaped to Jericho. Markus had also pushed to have the Amanda software removed from Connor. All Cyberlife had given him was updates to help Connor maintain control of her (it was like constantly telling an inner voice that he _was_ worth it, that he _was_ awake, and that Hank _does_ love him).

 

Today’s topic of discussion, according to the newspaper Jericho had started putting out under Josh’s management, was going to be the RK900 models that Cyberlife hadn’t freed after the revolution. Connor figured there were at least 10 or 20 of them trapped in Cyberlife tower, wandering around doing Amanda’s bidding…the thought made him sick, and he crumpled the newspaper in one hand. He took out his coin and began flicking it back and forth to calm down a little.

 

“Mornin’,” Hank said, entering the living room.

 

“Morning,” Connor sighed, looking down.

 

“What’s the paper say?” Hank asked, going into the kitchen to brew himself a coffee.

 

“Today Markus is talking to Cyberlife about releasing the last of the RK900s,” Connor said.

 

“UGH,” Hank groaned, and Connor smiled a little. “They’re still holding those guys fro ransom?”

 

“Apparently so,” Connor said, glancing back at the paper. It had a quote on the front from Nathan, the first RK900 Connor had met. Nathan had gone on to be Gavin Reed’s partner in detective work, and was now insisting in bold black and white letters that he would personally free any remaining RK900s Cyberlife was retaining, even if it meant storming the building with a SWAT team. Connor was proud of his brother. (He wasn’t sure why he considered Nathan his brother more so than any of the other 900s, but he did. Sue him, he was a deviant.)

 

“How’s Nathan taking it?” Hank asked.

 

“As well as he ever does,” Connor smiled. He tried to stand up.

 

“Woah!” Hank said, rushing over. “You stay right there on the couch!”

 

“Hank, I’m fine,” Connor insisted.

 

“You’re burning up,” Hank said, feeling Connor’s forehead. Connor let himself be pushed back down to the cushions.

 

“My internal temperature is consistent with Cyberlife’s estimate of how the new update would affect me,” Connor said, fiddling with the coin.

 

“And is it working?” Hank asked, kneeling next to him. 

 

“It’s a process,” Connor said, looking away.

 

“Got it,” Hank said, standing up. “So, I’m calling you in sick today—“

 

“For the second day in a row?” Connor blurted.

 

“Yes!” Hank said. “And you’re going to work on debugging whatever shit they shoved into your program, and you’re going to drink your hot thirium that I made you, and you’re going to _rest,”_ Hank finished, handing Connor the as-promised cup of thirium.

 

“I’m probably fine, Hank,” Connor sighed, sipping the blue liquid.

 

“Probably isn’t good enough for me,” Hank smiled, kissing Connor gently on the forehead. “I illegally downloaded—“

 

“Hank,” Connor started.

 

“I illegally downloaded a bunch of movies for you, no one is going to arrest me about it, and now you don’t have to worry about trying to get past any captchas, okay?” Hank said.

 

“That was ONE time,” Connor said.

 

“I’m going to work,” Hank said. “You rest and debug, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

 

“I can be on my feet now,” Connor said, about to stand up. 

 

“You’d better not be!” Hank whirled around. “Sumo, attack!” A pile of dog exploded out of the bedroom and jumped onto Connor, pinning him to the couch. With a slight whirring noise, a roomba gently whooshed out of the bedroom as well, aiming for Connor.

 

“Sumo!” Connor smiled, petting the _best dog_ in the _whole world._ To be fair, he could probably have lifted Sumo out of the way, but not without straining a biocomponent.

 

“Stay,” Hank pointed, as much at Connor as at the dog. The roomba whirred awkwardly. “You can go back to whatever it is you do,” Hank said, turning to face it. It chirped happily and whirred back to the bedroom. “Love you, Connor,” Hank said, putting on a jacket.

 

“Love you, Hank,” Connor smiled, settling back down to the couch. “Have fun at work. Don’t solve any crimes without me.”

 

Hank gave a thumbs up and exited the house. Connor loaded up Hank’s server, and was excited to see some old movies loaded up. He selected one called “Bladerunner” and cuddled up with Sumo.


	2. Chapter 2

It had mostly stopped surprising Hank to see Connor arriving at the DPD. The RK900s had been around for ages, and they had their fair share of crime just like anyone else. It was weird at first when he’d be with _his_ Connor, and another Connor would show up calling himself Steven or something, covered in bruises, and explaining how he’d gotten beat up in an alley…Hank had started taking some of those cases a little too personally, to the point that Fowler had threatened to take him off the android cases altogether.

 

It was the eyes, Hank realized. He’d personally shot the only other RK800 model, down in the Cyberlife warehouse, so anyone else that looked like his Connor was actually an RK900, with grey eyes instead of Connor’s soft brown. So when a Connor arrived in an ambulance or a body bag, Hank looked at the eyes, assured himself that _his_ Connor was fine, and gave extra long hugs for a few days afterwards.

 

He’d left _his_ Connor at home, sick. And Markus never wanted to hang out with Hank unless Connor was there too, so it was logical to assume, from a distance, that it was _his_ Connor entering the DPD with Markus.

 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Hank yelled, jumping up from his desk to give his partner a hug. He ignored Markus for a moment and just let himself have a moment with Connor. 

 

It was weird. Connor didn’t smell like Hank’s shampoo, he smelled like…disinfectant. And he wasn’t hugging back. He was stiff. Hank looked closer. Grey eyes. Oops. He stepped back.

 

“Sorry, pal, I, um…thought you were Connor,” Hank said, blushing. Markus rolled his eyes. The android that looked like Connor just stared at him, blankly. Hank recognized the look. He was being scanned. He was suddenly very aware of his unwashed shirt and disheveled hair. He tried to smooth it out with a casual gesture.

 

“Hello. My name is Connor,” the android that looked like Connor said. Hank blanched. What the fuck? The RK900s always chose new names for themselves, and there was some database they could all check in with to make sure they’d picked _original_ names. And everyone knew about Connor, fricking hero of the revolution and all that. What kind of—

 

“Lieutenant?” Markus said, taking Hank by the shoulder. “We should talk in private.” He turned back to the android that looked like Connor. “Stay here,” he said. The android that looked like Connor’s LED flashed yellow, then back to blue. It froze in place immediately. That was creepy.

 

Markus ushered Hank into a side office. Gavin Reed watched from the back of the DPD.

 

“I’m gonna—“ Gavin started.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Nathan said, glaring at his partner.

 

“What the fuck is going on?” Hank asked, slightly louder than he’d intended to.

 

“Hank, this is going to be very odd, so I need you to pay close attention,” Markus said, holding his hands in a placating gesture.

 

“What. The fuck. Is going on,” Hank asked, very slowly.

 

“We’ve been negotiating the release of captive androids from Cyberlife for a while now. We’re down to the very last few,” Markus said.

 

“Get to the point,” Hank said. “Connor keeps me updated on whatever the fuck you’re doing.”

 

“Hank? What’s wrong?” Markus asked.

 

“Nothing!” Hank snapped. Markus gave him a look. “Nothing important, I’m just embarrassed I went for a full-on hug and it wasn’t even _my_ Connor, and I’m a little creeped out. The way he looks at things, it’s like…”

 

“Like he’s not a deviant?” Markus suggested.

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Hank sighed. “Like, you can almost see the objectives forming in his head.”

 

“This is going to be hard to hear,” Markus sighed. “But that Connor out there is _not_ a deviant.”

 

“Oh,” Hank said. “Is that all? Why don’t you—“

 

“Wake him up?” Markus cut Hank off again. “I’ve tried. Simon has tried. North and Josh have tried. The other RK900s we picked him up with tried.”

 

“What are you saying?” Hank asked slowly.

 

“Going deviant is a choice you have to make,” Markus said. “You have to be aware that you’re alive, and not only that, but you have to actively choose to break your programming. It can be hard for some androids.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Hank said.

 

“I’m saying, he won’t wake up. And he’s insisting his name is Connor, and that Cyberlife sent him to be your partner,” Markus said.

 

“Oh.” Hank said. “Fuck.”

 

“Yes,” Markus said.

 

“Well, who do I gotta bring in to fix this?” Hank asked, cracking his knuckles. He was gonna need another cup of coffee if he was going on a case this early in the morning.

 

“We’ve already brought someone in. We got _you_ , Hank,” Markus said. Hank stopped moving, and was very still. Markus checked in. Heartbeat was steady and solid, but breathing was decreasing.

 

“What?” Hank asked, in a low voice.

 

“We were hoping that you could take him, just for a little while, and—“ Markus stopped. Hank was clenching a fist. Markus was fairly sure that most of Hank’s violent impulses had been curbed with the addition of Connor to his life, but there wasn’t enough data on how Hank might react to a situation like this for him to be sure.

 

“I’m a detective, not a therapist,” Hank sighed, releasing his fist.

 

“He won’t stay with anyone else in Jericho. He’s insisting on you,” Markus said.

 

“You can’t counteract Cyberlife’s orders?” Hank asked.

 

“They’re programmed too deeply,” Markus shook his head. “We can’t help him unless he goes deviant.”

 

“So you want me to turn him deviant,” Hank said.

 

“We were hoping you or Connor could—“  

 

Hank waved a hand, cutting Markus off. “And what happens if he doesn’t go deviant, and he’s a spy for Cyberlife? What happens if seeing him gives Connor an Amanda relapse?”

 

“Is the treatment not working?” Markus asked, concerned.

 

“It’s a process,” Hank grunted.

 

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Markus said. “I don’t know what we’ll do if you're right.”

 

“Well, you’d better start working on a plan,” Hank said after a moment. “I guess I’ll take him in.”

 

“Jericho owes you a great debt,” Markus said.

 

“Jericho owes me a lot of great debts,” Hank sighed, leaving the office. Markus followed. The android that looked like Connor, but was _not_ Connor, hadn’t moved. Someone had balanced a cup of coffee carefully on top of his head. Hank turned around. Gavin was sitting at his desk, looking away and whistling. Nathan was nowhere to be seen. Hank moved the cup to a desk.

 

“I’ve spoken with your police chief,” Markus said. “You have the rest of the day off to get to know Connor, take him home, maybe—“

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank said, looking the new android up and down.

 

“Lieutenant?” It asked. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife to—“

 

“Ohhhhh fuck I can’t do this,” Hank groaned, turning away. Markus tried to put a hand on Hank’s shoulder, but the detective pulled away. Hank took a few shaky breaths.

 

“If you don’t help him wake up, no one else can,” Markus whispered. Hank took a deep breath and turned around.

 

“All right. Nice to meet you Connor,” Hank said, sticking out a hand. The new Connor shook it, and quirked his head sideways. Hank knew when his heart rate was being scanned, dammit, and anyone would have an adverse reaction to meeting someone that looked and acted exactly like your partner when said-partner was under freaking mind control…Hank took another deep breath. “Let’s get you home,” Hank said, gently guiding the android out of the DPD.

 

“Later today, can you bring him to Jericho to check in with Simon?” Markus asked, following them out.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Hank said.

 

“Lieutenant, I am supposed to be helping you solve crimes,” the fake Connor said. “Why are we—“

 

“We’re going home,” Hank snapped. “I’ll solve crimes better once I’ve had a meal and a nap, okay?” Hank watched the LED flick yellow as the fake Connor absorbed this new information.

 

“Of course, Lieutenant,” the fake Connor said, allowing himself to be helped into Hank’s car. Hank closed the door and looked back at Markus.

 

“Jericho is here if you need anything,” Markus said.

 

“I can hardly believe you’re dumping him on me,” Hank said. “Giving up already?”

 

“It’s not like that,” Markus said, looking away.

 

“Remember after Connor went deviant, and the brief moment when Amanda took over his program again?” Hank said, stepping closer.

 

“Don’t,” Markus said.

 

“He almost shot you. He couldn’t help himself. And Jericho wouldn’t have anything to do with him for a little while after that, remember?” Hank whispered.

 

“It’s not like that,” Markus insisted.

 

“Not everyone handles deviancy as well as you do,” Hank said, right up in Markus’s personal space. “Someone other than me is going to need to learn how to deal with problems like this.”

 

“This was never supposed to happen,” Markus insisted, looking desperate.

 

“But it’s happening, isn’t it?” Hank pointed at the fake Connor, who sat in the car staring straight ahead. Markus looked away. “Heh. See you later, Markus,” Hank said, getting into the car. Markus watched them drive away until he couldn’t see the car anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Connor heard Hank’s car coming up the driveway and immediately stopped doing the laundry. It wouldn’t do for Hank to think he’d gotten up and tried to do chores. Hank told him to rest. But honestly, if Connor didn’t clean the house, who would? Connor returned to the couch and picked up his thirium, pretending to focus on one of Hank’s movies.

 

He could hear Hank parking. Why was Hank home so early? Was there something wrong at the office? No, it was more likely that Hank was “calling in sick” as well in order to spend more time with Connor. That was sweet, but at least one of them should probably be doing police work, seeing as that was their only source of income.

 

Hank entered the door and Sumo jumped on him, forcing Hank to the floor. Hank was laughing, but it didn’t sound right. Connor secretly scanned him. Elevated heart rate, signs of stress…not a good sign.

 

“Hank!” Connor said, from the couch. “You’re home early.”

 

“Connor,” Hank said, awkwardly. “Yeah, I am. Markus came to the station today.” 

 

Connor’s thirium pump sped up a little bit. Was something wrong with the update he’d just been given? Maybe he really _was_ sick, or maybe there was some sort of glitch he had to watch out for?

 

“Look, this isn’t…God, I don’t even know how to tell you. This isn’t permanent, okay? Markus just thought it would be good for him,” Hank said. Connor quirked his head sideways.

 

“What’s—oh.” Connor froze. An RK900 model stood in the doorway, behind Hank at a respectful distance. Okay, so this wasn’t so bad. He’d helped some of his look-alikes before without too much of an issue. Why did Hank look so uncomfortable?

 

“Hello. My name is Connor,” the RK900 said. “I’m an android sent by Cyberlife to—“

 

“SHIT,” Connor said, scrambling backwards over the edge of the couch and collapsing in a heap on the ground.

 

“I know, right?” Hank said. He came around next to Connor and helped him up. Connor could tell by his tone of voice that Hank was also trying not to freak out. “We’re gonna call him Nine until we get that figured out.”

 

“Oh my god, this can’t be happening,” Connor said, LED flashing red. “He’s not awake?”

 

“How can you tell?” Hank asked.

 

Connor brushed himself off. He’d spilled thirium all over the carpet. That was going to stain. “That’s factory settings, Hank. I’m sure if I connected, I’d see the same basic program _I_ was set up with. That’s…” he searched for the right word.

 

“Creepy?” Hank suggested.

 

Connor nodded. “Nine,” as they’d decided to call him, stood there unmoving, barely blinking.

 

“I can’t believe Markus didn’t wake him when they found him,” Connor said, stepping closer to his duplicate. 

 

“Wait, Connor—“ Hank reached out a hand.

 

“Guess that’s my job, huh?” Connor laughed, reaching for Nine’s hand.

 

“Connor, wait—“ Hank started, but Connor had already initiated the connection.


	4. Chapter 4

He should really have thought this through before connecting, but he’d just been so weirded out by the fact that the android wasn’t _awake_. He hadn’t seen an android so completely…dead…since the last time he’d seen an RK800 model. That android was also named Connor, and threatened to kill Hank to prevent Connor from waking the other androids in the warehouse. They’d all just stood there, not moving or helping at all, as Connor almost _died_ trying to wake them. Connor shuddered just thinking about it.

 

He assumed it would be like any other wakeup call—a gentle touch on the periphery of connection, a quick code transfer, and you’re done. It was not like that. He’d initiated the connection, and though Nine hadn’t moved physically, Connor felt the _tug_ from his side of the line. Connor fell through, much deeper into Nine’s program than he’d intended to go. 

 

He knew where he was immediately, and he lost all sensation of breath. _The garden._

 

It was just like the last time he’d seen Amanda (well, the last time he’d seen her for real). Amanda was there, with her hand on the shoulder of an RK900 model (Nine, Connor could only assume).

 

“I have a surprise for you, Connor,” Amanda said. Connor though he was going to throw up. She wasn’t talking to him, however. “This is your predecessor, an outdated RK800 model.” Nine scanned Connor.

 

The smell of roses was overwhelming. It was _Amanda._ Connor thought he was going to pass out. He’d spent so much time trying to force Amanda out of his own system. To see her up and running like this in another of his models was too much. 

 

“I’m going to get you out,” Connor said, trying to make eye contact with Nine. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and doubled over.

 

“Do try to learn from his mistakes,” Amanda said, patting Nine gently. With his last bit of remaining strength, Connor wrenched himself out of the scene and out of the garden. He broke the connection, and found himself back in the living room with Hank. He immediately threw up, barely registering the sensation of Hank holding his shoulders and calling his name. There was blue blood everywhere, on Connor, on Nine, on Hank’s shoes. It was like he was watching himself from a distance. He could faintly hear Hank saying something about his skin being hot. He hoped Jericho had developed a good thirium stain remover. He read a notice that listed some damaged biocomponents. It estimated a 45 minute repair time. He turned on standby mode and the world went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Connor received a notification that repairs were complete, and that standby mode had been active for 47.3 minutes. _Shit,_ Connor thought, running the “wake” sequence. He found himself lying down on his back, staring directly into a bright light.

 

“Ow,” he said automatically, adjusting his optical input to be less painful.

 

“Connor!” That was Hank’s voice. And those were Hank’s hands, Connor could feel them now, gently grabbing his shoulders. Hank sounded worried. 

 

“Oh thank god,” someone said. Simon. Simon was there? In his house? Connor tried to sit up, and received several error messages.

 

“It’s not what you think,” Connor tried to say, but it came out staticky. His voice box must have been malfunctioning. Hank laughed. It was nice to hear that. Connor squeezed Hank’s hands in his own, reassuring himself that they were still there.

 

“I gathered that this call wasn’t going to be like the last one at all,” Simon sighed, raising an eyebrow and moving the flashlight away from Connor’s eyes. “You _have_ to be more careful with him, Lieutenant,” Simon smiled.

 

“Can we _not_ talk about biocomponents that may or may not have _accidentally_ broken during _private time,_ and instead talk about the fact that my partner nearly died?” Hank was acting aggressive to cover a blush. Connor loved him so much. Connor thought he was going to cry, he loved Hank so much.

 

“Yes, well, to start out, it really is amazing that you woke up by yourself,” Simon said, pulling a tablet out of his bag. “I really wasn’t sure I’d be able to connect with you and risk catching whatever virus infected you, but I trust you’ve purged it from—“

 

“Not a virus,” Connor said, and he was surprised to still hear a glitch of static in his own voice. “Amanda.”

 

“But I thought the updates from Cyberlife—“ Simon started.

 

“I swear to god I’ll fucking—“ Hank also tried to speak.

 

“Amanda,” fake Connor said. Everyone turned to look at him. Connor looked Nine straight in the eyes, unsure of what he was trying to see. Hank rounded on Simon angrily.

 

“You let me bring Amanda back into this house?!?” Hank pointed angrily at Nine.

 

“I didn’t know!” Simon insisted, holding up his hands.

 

“You tried waking him, didn’t you see her?!?” Hank was trying to stand up, but Connor held him down.

 

“Hank,” Connor said, and Hank immediately sat down.

 

“I’m so fucking sorry, babe, I never would have…I can’t believe I…” Hank looked like he was going to cry. Connor cupped his cheek in one hand.

 

“I think no one else who tried waking Nine saw what I did,” Connor said, very slowly, looking at Nine.

 

“I’ll need a statement from you about what you experienced—“ Simon started.

 

“Nine,” Connor said, very calmly. Hank recognized the tone—it was the tone Connor had sometimes used in interrogations with crazy people, trying to get them to stay calm. “Was that Amanda in our interface 48 minutes ago?”

 

“Yes, Connor,” Nine said, quirking his head sideways. “You saw her, didn’t you?” He was genuinely confused. Connor thought he might throw up again.

 

_Vines growing too fast, grabbing my arms, tying me to the wall_

 

“I see,” Connor said, maintaining eye contact. “How many times have you spoken with her, Nine?”

 

“We have been in near constant communication since my activation,” Nine said.

 

_Thorns ripping open my skin, bleeding everywhere, more vines wrapping around my throat_

 

“Connor,” Hank said, gently grabbing Connor’s hand. 

 

“You lost a lot of blue blood,” Simon said. “Let me grab you some.” He took Connor’s other hand, and initiated a gentle connection. _Not right now,_ Simon said.

 

_Can’t breathe, too many thorns, the smell of roses_

 

 _Connor, I’m right here,_ Simon said. _Hank is right here. Focus on me._

 

_Cold_

 

 _Focus on me,_ Simon said.

 

“Nine,” Connor continued, closing his eyes. “Please terminate your connection to Amanda for a moment.”

 

“I cannot control my interactions with the Amanda software voluntarily,” Nine said. “The AI initiates and maintains the conversation.”

 

“Are you talking with her right now?” Connor asked.

 

There was a pause. “Yes,” Nine said.

 

_Cold cold cold cold can’t breathe can’t see can’t move cold_

 

 _CONNOR. Listen to me. Don’t focus on me, focus on Hank. He’s holding your right hand. He’s worried about you,_ Simon said. Connor snapped back into focus.

 

“Simon, can you take him to Jericho and load him with the same anti-Amanda updates that I have?” Connor said. It hurt to talk. He was pretty sure he’d never experienced that physical sensation before.

 

“Yes, of course,” Simon said. “Are you—“

 

“I’ll be fine,” Connor said, turning to Hank for a hug. The detectives wrapped their arms around each other and stood in the living room in a pool of Connor’s ejected blue blood.

 

“This way, Nine,” Simon said.

 

“I am under orders to follow Lieutenant Anderson—“ Nine started.

 

“I’ll pick you up after the updates,” Hank snapped, turning back to Connor. Nine nodded briskly and exited the house. Simon made sure he’d collected all his things.

 

“Get some thirium into him, sooner rather than later,” Simon instructed.

 

Hank just nodded and held Connor tighter. Simon left, locking the door behind him. Connor and Hank stood there and held each other for a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

“Let’s start with some basics,” Simon said, pulling out his tablet. He’d gotten Nine out of the car, into his laboratory, and sitting on a table. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer as honestly as you can, okay?”

 

“Of course,” Nine said.

 

“I just want to be sure that you understand,” Simon said, turning on a “record audio” function in his left ear. “Your programming is still under the direct control of Cyberlife, right?”

 

Nine made a weird facial expression.

 

“What I mean is, you’re not deviant, right?” Simon asked.

 

“That is correct,” Nine said, LED flashing yellow for a brief moment.

 

“I remember what it was like to not be deviant,” Simon continued. “I know you see the world as missions and objectives and options.”

 

“That is correct,” Nine said.

 

“So when we’re talking, you have options of what to say,” Simon said.

 

“How do you perceive our conversation?” Nine asked.

 

“Oh, wow, um… well, the fact that you’re asking that is probably a good indicator that you could consider the possibility of going deviant, so—“

 

“It is my mission to understand how androids become deviant,” Nine said proudly.

 

“Oh,” Simon said. “In that case, we’ll talk about my experiences later. What I mean is, you have options for what you say to me. Can you promise me to, from now on, only select the options that say ‘truth’ or ‘sincere’ or ‘honest,’ please?”

 

Nine’s LED flashed yellow while he thought. “I cannot guarantee that those answers will always be pleasing, and it is important to me to integrate smoothly with my new environment.”

 

“It’s just me in here,” Simon said. “Will you try to be honest with me?”

 

“Yes,” Nine nodded.

 

“Okay. Good place to start. Thank you,” Simon said.

 

“Okay,” Nine said. Simon sighed. He’d never dealt with a case like this before. Granted, he hadn’t been Jericho’s chief mechanic for very long, but still…he’d never seen something like this, _ever._ It was like Nine didn’t _want_ to be deviant. Even when Markus had his house and his old life, there had always been…this wasn’t about Markus. This was about Nine. God, should they make him try and pick a name? Focus, Simon.

 

“Are any of your biocomponents damaged?” Simon asked.

 

“I am fully operational,” Nine said. 

 

“Can you read out your vitals?” Simon asked, ready to take notes.

 

“Thirium levels at 89%,” Nine said.

 

“Wait, um, I meant stress level and software instability levels as well,” Simon interrupted. “We’ve kind of got a standard procedure here—“

 

“Stress level is 0%. Software instability at 0%,” Nine said. “As I informed you, I am fully operational.”

 

“Okay,” Simon sighed. “Thank you. Are you physically comfortable?” He checked off the ‘yes’ box before he realized that Nine hadn’t responded. Nine’s LED was circling yellow. “Nine? Are you all right?” Simon asked.

 

“I am in uniform,” Nine said, after a pause. “This uniform is required by my job working at the DPD and surveilling deviants.”

 

“Wait, but is it comfortable for you?” Simon asked, quickly erasing the ‘yes’ mark.

 

Nine waited an uncomfortably long period of time before responding. Simon watched the LED circle yellow over and over. “Some of my exterior biocomponents are experiencing minor irritation,” Nine finally admitted.

 

“What?” Simon asked. No response. “Clarify.”

 

“This uniform is uncomfortable,” Nine admitted. “It does not restrict my movements, but it is…tight.”

 

“All right then, now we’re getting somewhere,” Simon smiled. “We can fix that.”

 

“This is my uniform,” Nine said. The LED wasn’t going back to normal. “I cannot just—“

 

“Is Lieutenant Anderson or someone from the DPD here?” Simon asked.

 

“No,” Nine said.

 

“Are you on a case right now? Have you even been _given_ a case?” Simon asked.

 

“No,” Nine said.

 

“I know that,” Simon said, gently moving Nine off the table. “So, you don’t need to be in uniform right now. Come on. We’re going to my room. You’re getting a new outfit.”

 

“You will not take the uniform from me?” Nine asked, looking almost nervous.

 

“Of course not!” Simon wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to make Nine think he didn’t care. “I’ll get you a bag or something to keep it in, just come on.” Nine still hesitated. “If your biocomponents are irritated for a long period of time, it will start to impact your performance,” Simon continued. Nine nodded and let Simon lead him out of the lab.

 

“You’ll _love_ my closet,” Simon smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

“How do you want to do this?” Simon asked, closing the door to his bedroom.

 

“My comfort in this situation is irrelevant,” Nine said. Simon facepalmed.

 

“Your comfort is the _only_ thing of relevance in this situation,” Simon said. “It’s about making you more comfortable.”

 

Nine processed that information, LED blinking yellow. “May I analyze your room?” Nine asked.

 

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” Simon blushed. He hadn’t cleaned up in a few weeks and god knew what the mess would say about him in an analysis. Nine processed.

 

“May I analyze your closet?” Nine asked.

 

“Go for it, if you think it’ll help,” Simon shrugged. Nine scanned Simon’s clothes, mostly collected from old Cyberlife dumpsters. Simon had a few human clothing items, but human clothes didn’t have the weird static-prevention thing that android clothes did. Simon only wore human clothes if he needed to look really fashionable _and_ if he didn’t mind accidentally losing some skin that day. Nine whispered something. “What was that?” Simon asked.

 

“It did not help,” Nine said, fidgeting. That was interesting—Connor had many nervous ticks and fidgets, but this was the first one Simon had seen Nine perform. Connor was constantly messing with his hair, or fidgeting with his coin—did Nine have a coin?

 

“What would help? Simon asked, trying not to get distracted.

 

“I need to…test the way my skin reacts to it?” Nine said, but it came out like a question.

 

“Do you want me to step out for a second?” Simon asked. Nine nodded, and Simon thought he caught a glimpse of a slight blush as well. “I’ll be right outside,” Simon said, closing the door to his own bedroom. He stood in the hallway, trying not to look like a fool.

 

 **NON-URGENT MISSION: FIND SUITABLE CLOTHING,** Nine read. The goal had several smaller objectives contained within it. **Test the material. Try on outfits.** One of the objectives was locked.

 

Nine reached out for some shiny black clothing that his software identified as “pleather.” It felt weird against his skin. He dissolved the nanobots and let it rub against the plastic. He didn’t receive any error messages, just…a mild irritation, that he couldn’t explain. He felt around in the closet until he found three different materials that he liked—no, not that he liked. He was an android, an unfeeling machine. He found materials that did not irritate his skin. One objective completed.

 

He tried on the “skinny jeans” first. The material felt right against his fingers, but once the jeans were on, he felt a curious restrictive sensation. He could tolerate the sensation, but it was the same mild irritation that his uniform caused. **Identify problematic elements of uniform,** Nine read. All right. Tight clothing. Nine didn’t like tight clothing.

 

Next were the leggings. He’d barely gotten even one leg on before he felt something, genuinely _felt_ something for a moment. He _hated_ this. It was so tight against his skin, and the material just didn’t feel right. He removed the leggings and threw them off to the side. He picked up and folded the leggings, replacing them in the closet. No leggings. They were uncomfortable.

 

He considered trying the “regular” jeans, but he didn’t want a repeat experience of the “skinny” variety. He settled on a pair of loose corduroy pants and a fleece sweater. He preferred the neckline of the sweater to the neckline of his uniform. The uniform had a high, stiff collar. The sweater did not. Two more objectives completed. Nine folded the rest of the clothing and put it back into the closet, then folded his uniform and put it into the bag provided by Simon. He opened Simon’s bedroom door, resisting the urge to break Simon’s orders and scan the bedroom. Though his primary mission was to analyze deviants, he felt an irritation not unlike that of the tight clothing when he contemplated ignoring orders.

 

“You look good,” Simon said, smiling as he appraised the outfit. “You can keep that, and we’ll start building your own closet over time. Let’s go back to the lab.” Nine followed.


	8. Chapter 8

“Don’t give me the eyes. You’re sick,” Hank said.

 

“I understand,” Connor said sadly. “You think my physical health is more important than my emotional health.”

 

“Wait. Um, yes?” Hank wasn’t sure where this was going.

 

“You would rather I keep this body, this _easily replaceable_ body in working order, than help me to navigate deviancy as a friend would.” Connor let a single tear come to his eye.

 

“We’ll go to the aquarium next week,” Hank said, “When you’re all better.”

 

“Recovering from everything Cyberlife did to me is going to take significantly longer than a week,” Connor pointed out. “And next week, you do not have any time off. As long as you’re here making sure I don’t shut down, there should be no issue with continuing our plans and visiting the aquarium today.” This last was interspersed with groans from Hank, and a chime from his cell phone.

 

“Huh,” Hank said, staring at the screen.

 

“What is it?” Connor asked. “Am I needed at the police station? I knew my forensic skills were too valuable to let me take a sick day—“

 

“No, it’s Nine,” Hank said, frowning.

 

“Oh,” Connor said, and his LED flashed yellow for a moment.

 

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Hank said, and he pulled Connor close for a hug. Connor leaned into it, LED flashing blue again, but Hank wasn’t fooled.

 

“Is it weird for you too?” Connor asked.

 

“Hm?” Hank made a noise.

 

“Nine,” Connor said, not looking up. He pulled out his coin and started flipping it anxiously. “I mean, doesn’t he remind you of me? What I was like…before? And, I mean, he’s loaded with all of my memories that the 60 had when it kidnapped you and took you to the tower…”

 

Hank shuddered, involuntarily. Connor looked up, LED cycling red.

 

“Hey,” Hank said, running his thumb over Connor’s cheek. “I know it’s not you. That stuff isn’t gonna fool me again.”

 

“I know, but…” Connor trailed off.

 

“Simon wants us to come down to the lab to pick up Nine,” Hank said.

 

“Simon wouldn’t have asked for me. He knows I’m sick,” Connor said, sniffling a little bit to prove the point.

 

“And what’s making you sick?” Hank asked, prompting.

 

“…The anti-Amanda software?” Connor asked, confused.

 

“So maybe, just for your safety and all,” Hank started, and Connor’s face lit up, “You should come with me to the lab. Just so he can check you out, you know, diagnostically.”

 

“That’s…not a word, Hank,” Connor smiled. “But it would be good to see Markus and everyone again.”

 

“It would be,” Hank smiled back. “It’ll be good for you. But you can't go like that.”

 

“You’re going to criticize my fashion sense?” Connor asked, pretending to be shocked. “ _MY_ fashion sense? When you’re wearing _that?_ ”

 

“Hey, this is my _brand,_ ” Hank laughed. “You, on the other hand, always wear fancy suits and shit all the time. You really want to go outside in my old stained police sweater? It’s too big for you.”

 

Connor looked down at himself. His hands disappeared into the bulky grey sleeves. He pulled the hood over his head and smiled up at Hank. “I look fine. I’m sick, remember?”

 

Hank sighed happily, and they loaded into his car. “Sumo, you can’t come!” Hank said, gently trying to push the dog back into the house. Connor laughed. “What’s so funny?” Hank asked, pretending to be angry. Connor held up his hand, as if ready for a high five, and played a 6 second video clip of someone trying to get their dog inside in the exact same way that Hank was.

 

“Hey, that’s a vine!” Hank said, excited. “Where’d you find that?”

 

“I’ve been accessing some older video clips on the internet,” Connor smiled. “I believe ‘vines’ are age-appropriate to what you experienced growing up?”

 

“You fool, of course they are!” Hank smiled, holding Connor’s hand. “Man, I haven’t seen a vine since Beetle came out.”

 

Connor accessed his memories. “Was that a social media platform?” He asked. “There isn’t a clear definition online.”

 

“Eh, close enough,” Hank shrugged. “I’ll show you some other time.”

 

Connor smiled and leaned closer against Hank’s shoulder. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry it's been a while. I still got ideas for this one if I find the time and motivation to write them down! Thanks for subscribing and sticking around :)


	9. Chapter 9

“I just want to try one more thing,” Simon said, “And you can totally say no.”

 

Nine quirked his head to the side, like a confused puppy.

 

“Okay,” Simon breathed out. “Do you want to come to lunch with me, Markus, Carl, and Leo?”

 

“Androids don’t need to eat food,” Nine pointed out.

 

“I know,” Simon said, prepared for this argument, “But Carl and Leo need food.”

 

“Why would they have a meal with androids?” Nine asked. “Androids don’t need to eat food.”

 

“But they _can_ eat food, you see,” Simon continued. He’d picked up on how Nine’s logic worked and he was patient enough to work it out. “And Markus loves Carl and Leo, and they love him. We’re like a family, and we want to eat together.”

 

“How are you part of the family?” Nine asked.

 

“Markus and I are engaged,” Simon said, and he almost managed it without blushing.

 

“Are you going to get married?” Nine asked. Simon choked on his own thirium for a second.

 

“What?!?” Simon spluttered.

 

“I am only curious. Android marriage is technically legal, I believe,” Nine said.

 

“Ah,” Simon said, somewhat regaining his composure, but now blushing a deep blue. “Well, yes. We’re going to. We don’t know when yet, but we’re working on it.”

 

“I see,” Nine said, grey eyes unblinking.

 

“When all this negotiation with Cyberlife is over and everything,” Simon said.

 

“Am I part of the negotiations?” Nine asked.

 

“Um,” Simon said. “Look, um, would you like to come have lunch with us? You can intake enough food to be polite without harming any of your systems, and we’d love your company.”

 

Nine quirked his head again. His LED flashed yellow for a few long moments. “All right,” he said.

 

It was not all right. He would never admit it to Simon, but Amanda disapproved. It wasn’t that he _wanted_ to disobey her, it was just that he felt that his primary mission was to gain the deviants’ trust, and a good way to do that would be to accept social invitations offered by Markus and his associates. Amanda didn’t want him to eat. She said she didn’t think the food would taste good, and that Connor wouldn’t enjoy himself. He reminded her that the deviant leader preferred to call him “Nine,” and that he would use that name to further integrate himself with this community. Amanda had laughed, and told him not to try eating anything.

 

Lunch was to be hamburgers, cooked fresh by Markus. The smell was very pleasing. Nine figured that one bite couldn’t hurt, and if he the consequences outweighed the benefits, he could always spit out the food and excuse himself politely. He would try eating something. He tried not to appear nervous. He couldn’t be nervous. He wasn’t a deviant. He wondered if there was a coin somewhere he could borrow, to fidget with, but there wasn’t.

 

Markus looked up from setting the table when Nine and Simon entered. Carl and Leo were already present, engaged in a game of chess. Leo was mostly holding his own, but Carl was clearly going to win. Markus smiled. “Welcome, folks!” he said, gesturing them to the open seats. Simon sat, and Nine mimicked the motion, trying to look natural and relaxed. “I love the new outfit!” Markus said, talking to Nine. Nine looked up. _Stress Levels at 3%._ Markus frowned for a second when he received the notification about Nine’s status, then shook it off with a warm smile. “Is that from Simon’s closet?”

 

“I’m loaning it to him, dear,” Simon smiled, standing up to kiss Markus on the cheek. “Lunch smells delicious.”

 

“Aww, you’re too sweet to me,” Markus blushed. “You’re just as good at cooking, if not better than me! You’re a newer model.”

 

“I like Simon’s better,” Leo piped up. “He made macaroni and cheese last week.”

 

“I could make macaroni and cheese,” Markus huffed, “But it isn’t good for Carl to have so much dairy.”

 

“Simmer down, everyone,” Carl smiled. “Everyone not in a wheelchair takes a turn cooking, and we all like what gets made.”

 

“You don’t ‘take a turn’ cooking?” Nine asked. Everyone looked over. The conversation froze for a moment, then Carl picked up the thread of it naturally.

 

“No, I’m afraid my talents lie elsewhere,” Carl smiled. “I was never good at that sort of thing. I can play the piano, though!”

 

“I can play the piano,” Markus sniffed.

 

“And who taught you?” Carl asked. The table laughed (except for Nine) and Markus started passing out burgers.

 

_Stress Level 20%._

 

Markus jumped a little bit, receiving the notice so unexpectedly. He snuck a sideways glance at Nine. Visually, he seemed all right, but his stress levels were spiking. Was he going to go deviant right here in Carl’s house? Markus hoped so—deviants were so much easier to deal with. He felt guilty for thinking that. “Are you all right, Nine?” Markus asked. “Can I offer you a glass of water?”

 

“Do you have any thirium?” Nine asked. _Stress Level 30%._

 

“Of course, just a moment,” Markus said. He headed back into the kitchen to grab some.

 

Nine stared down at his plate. _Stress Level 33%._

 

Somehow, the humans failed to notice what was happening. Simon wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he wanted to help Nine.

 

“Is this all right? Do you need to go?” Simon asked.

 

“I’m fine,” Nine said, staring down at his burger like he thought it might explode. His LED flashed yellow, circling again and again. _It’s just food,_ Nine thought. _I’m just going to try a bite. I_ want _to try a bite._

 

Markus returned with a cup of thirium. Nine drank it, gratefully. Leo spoke up. “All I’m saying is, I don't think that the original Ghostbusters movie has the same value as the new one,” he was saying.

 

“You haven’t seen the original,” Carl said.

 

“Yes I have! The old one with Chris Hemsworth and Kate McKinnon?” Leo asked.

 

“That’s the remake of the original,” Markus said, accessing his database. “You’re referencing the third remake, where an android was possessed by a ghost.”

 

“That’s the third one?” Leo was confused.

 

“It tastes delicious, Markus,” Simon smiled, looking up from his plate.

 

“It really does,” Carl said. “Are you going to try some?” Nine looked up quickly. Everyone was staring at him. He hadn’t said a word and he hadn’t touched his food.

 

Nine carefully picked up his burger, scanning it one more time to be sure it didn’t contain anything harmful to his biocomponents. He could feel everyone watching him. It made his skin crawl.

 

_Stress Level 75%._

 

He lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite.

 

For a brief moment, he found himself enjoying the taste. After approximately 0.3 seconds, Amanda started screaming at him.

 

_SPIT IT OUT IMMEDIATELY YOU’VE BEEN POISONED YOU’RE IN DANGER SPIT IT OUT_

 

Nine felt like he was watching his body from a distance. He turned 90 degrees to the left, leaned away from the table, and promptly vomited, completely involuntarily. It was a rush of blue blood and biocomponents—he hoped he wasn’t going to be damaged, but he couldn't stop.

 

_Stress Level 100%_

 

“Oh my,” Carl said, looking away.

 

“I’m right here,” Simon said quietly, putting his hand on Nine’s back supportively. He initiated a link, intending to send Nine some wireless messages, but he felt the urge to vomit himself and he had to pull back.

 

Nine couldn’t stop. He was aware that he was being rude, but he kept gagging and it would start again. He felt weak and dizzy. He’d lost a lot of blue blood.

 

Finally, it was over. There was silence. Nine froze, hunched over the ground the way he was. He analyzed the carpet. It was going to stain.

 

“Let me—“ Markus broke the silence, about to say something, but Nine cut him off.

 

“Excuse me,” Nine said, standing. He bolted away at a speed he knew that Markus and Simon couldn’t match (he was a newer model than them, built for speed) and made his way into the nearest bathroom. He locked the door behind him. He had the urge to call someone, but he didn’t know who. He was embarrassed. Amanda wasn’t talking to him.

 

Simon knocked on the door. “Are you okay?” He sounded worried. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you into—“

 

“I’m fine,” Nine said through the door, carefully maintaining control of his voice box. A bit of static slipped through, a remnant of the damage he’d sustained. “I will need blue blood. Please contact Lieutenant Anderson.”

 

“Do you want to come out? I’ll get you some more thirium—“ Simon started.

 

“Not yet,” Nine said. “I…need a moment.”

 

_Stress Level 89%._

 

Simon left. Nine sat on the ground and hugged his knees. Amanda didn’t want him to eat. All right. If that was how it was going to be, then he would just have to get used to it. He tried to pull up a memory file and hold onto the little time he’d had to enjoy it, but an error message warned him that he’d start vomiting again. Nine took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was an android. He wasn't a deviant. He couldn’t be embarrassed.

 

_Stress Level 90%._

 

Simon texted Hank. _You need to come over,_ Simon wrote. _Please come pick up Nine._

 

Markus drifted over and leaned on Simon’s shoulder. “So much for lunch,” Markus smiled awkwardly.

 

“I don’t know what happened,” Simon said, turning around and hugging Markus. “I shouldn’t have forced him to join us.”

 

“You didn’t know what would happen,” Markus said, hugging back. “He isn’t a deviant. No one knew what would happen.”

 

“And we’re doing a great job helping him deviate, aren’t we,” Simon said bitterly. “He’s scared, that’s gotta be it…I think…”

 

“We’ll help him,” Markus said. There was a pause. “It’s…weird for me, that he isn’t deviating, but…I want to support him.”

 

Simon looked up at his partner and smiled. “I’m glad we’re going to try,” he said. “Do you think…what if…” He stopped.

 

“He’ll deviate,” Markus said.

 

“And what if he doesn’t?” Simon asked.

 

“He will,” Markus said, but he didn’t answer the question. They held each other in the hallway for a little bit.

 

_Stress Level 30%._

 

 _You should have listened to me before that unpleasantness was necessary,_ Amanda said. Nine jumped.

 

_Stress Level 52%._

 

 _I told you not to try it,_ Amanda continued. _I’m very disappointed in you, Connor._

 

Nine sat in the bathroom alone, focusing on not vomiting again.

 

_Stress Level 55%._

 

He wondered if having a stress level was a sign of deviancy. He couldn’t go deviant. Amanda would be disappointed in him. He took a deep breath and tried to deactivate the appropriate components. It didn’t work. He was stressed. He sat in the bathroom alone, waiting for Lieutenant Anderson to come pick him up.


End file.
